“Stay far away from him,” he said simply.
He looked as if he might have liked to have said other things, but she knew he wouldn’t. Her acquaintance with Oliver Phillips might have been brief, but she knew he tended to speak less than he thought
“Perhaps he’ll go soon,” she murmured.
He only closed his eyes briefly, then nodded.
She woke to absolute chaos.
She found herself pulled to her feet and tucked back into the corner by the hearth.
“I’ll be back,” Oliver said, strapping his sword to his back. “Stay here with the bairns.”
Well, that was very sensible advice, true, but she couldn’t just sit there in the kitchens and hide when there might be something she could do to calm what her brother only seemed to inflame. That she had been doing the same thing for most of her life was likely not a useful thing to dwell on.
“Ambrose—”
“I will, Auntie.”
She listened to him gather up his siblings and herd them into the place where Oliver had left her, made certain her knife was down the back of her belt, then strode across the kitchens to see if there might be something for her to do.
Half the clan was already pouring out the front door, dragging none other than Deirdre Fergusson with them. She yanked her arm away from someone’s hand only to find it was Oliver who had caught her by the elbow. Gently, if that mattered to anyone but her, but firmly.
“You should—”
“I cannot.”
He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. “Stay behind me, then. I have the feeling this will go badly.”
She had the feeling it was going to be Hell arriving on their doorstep, but she imagined that didn’t need to be said. She followed him across the hall out the door with the rest of herclan. She was absolutely certain the scene there in front of her was one she would never forget.
Master James had apparently woken that morning convinced that his duty lay in ridding the clan of the witch that was bringing them such bad luck. She couldn’t see that exactly as they seemed to be faring well enough at the moment. They had sufficient cattle, enough mutton for even the most hearty appetites, and warm things to wear thanks to her own industry. Her father’s condition was unfortunate, true, but that had been something that could have happened to any man brave enough to walk into the forest behind the… hall…
She looked quickly for her uncle, but he was well away from Master James and he never would have given voice to any of his more fanciful thoughts in the presence of that madman. She was certain of it.
Her brother, however, was another tale entirely and he seemed perfectly happy to complain about the endless shrieking of his wife which might indeed indicate something amiss with her.
“Aye, aye, we’ll see to her in a moment,” Master James assured him. “But there are others in this gathering who must be examined. Perhaps that man who came from Edinburgh without friends or baggage—”
Mairead didn’t hesitate. She walked forward and continued on until she was standing five paces away from the man who couldn’t possibly have been a decent member of the church.
“’Twas a terrible misfortune,” she agreed. “And yet he speaks so highly of you and your work in the city.”
Master James looked at her narrowly. “And what would you know of any of it, wench?”
“Nothing, good sir,” she said, bowing her head humbly. “I couldn’t resist the chance to compliment you on your keen eye and compassion for those who’ve had misfortune befall them.”
Master James pursed his lips. “Perhaps.”
“Let us find a text to read together,” she said, wondering if that sort of thing might distract him. “In Latin, which is too lofty for me, but for you—”
“You can read?” he asked, falling back with his hand at his throat.
“Of course not—”
It was at that moment that she began to have the smallest amount of sympathy for her brother. She had watched the souls around her from the time she’d become cognizant of them, separating them into groups of ones who were trustworthy and ones who needed to be humored so she might keep herself and those she loved safe. The latter group had been unpredictable, true, but always amenable either to food or compliments or even some sort of distraction in a direction where she was not so she could slip away, safely unnoticed.
Master James was, she could say without reservation, utterly mad.
